


In the Dark of the Night

by TheGeniusCallsYou



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Deaths, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Harry as Ex-Military, Harry snaps because of stress, Harry's not ok with his past, I'm so bad at tagging, Mentions of Injuries, Nightmares aren't nice stuff, Snowells, War of Americas aftermath, and it hunts him, present time: post 2x14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeniusCallsYou/pseuds/TheGeniusCallsYou
Summary: After they rescue Jesse, Harry's stressed mind finally crashes. There are events in his past that only come back when the lights are out. The present and the past are one and he finds himself struggling yet again. Fortunetly there is someone willing to help him out and maybe, she will find some peace in the process too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first part is focused mainly on the events in Harry's past that sometimes still hunt his dreams. Caitlin comes in the second part. It could be read as snowells or friendship, there will be nothing explict, so it depends solemlny on you :)  
> Can't help it, but I love writting angst for Harry. Harry admitted to Barry that he was problems sleeping and I decided to play with that.  
> You can read about Harry's military service and his wife's death in my other stories- "The Promise" and "More Bright Stars".  
> As always I apoligise for any mistakes as English is not my first language. Comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> Libby Chambers (Harry's late wife) in my mind is played by Julie Bowen.

Harry tosses and turns on the small cot in a room in STAR Labs’ basement. He’s tangled in his sheets, his head moving restless from one side to the other. There are drops of sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Somewhere outside a loud rumble could be heard. A storm is coming to Central City, but it doesn’t matter to the tossing man. He is lost deeply in his own subconscious – running from things he could never run away from.

*

When Harry Wells was sent back home from war, nightmares became his nightly friends. After they released him from hospital in a wheelchair, he thought that he escaped them. But they came on his first night in his own bed. He dreamed of his man dying in front of his own eyes, of screams, rain, an pain filled eyes that hunted him ever since.  
The first time he woke up, it was with a scream and a rough throat. Lib's hands were on his face and her voice calming him down. To this day he remembered how he shivered like a leaf back then.  
They didn't stop immediately. Every night he woke up in a cold sweat. Every night Lib held him close, stroking his hair and murmuring nonsense to calm him down. His breathing was slowly becoming even and after that, he always tried to move away from her. She had never let him. She wanted him to speak about his dreams but he always answered in the same way:  
"It's over, don't worry about it.”  
Because how could you tell someone close to you about horrors you had to do? How could you tell about a boy, whose face hunted you every night? The boy who was only 14 when you put a bullet through his head.  
Sometimes it ended when he pulled the trigger. Sometimes the boy spoke to him, sometimes screamed at him, sometimes cried. There were times when the boy pressed the detonator and everything ended in flames.  
There were nights, when Harrison Wells saw himself on a mountain of corpuses. Enemies at the bottom with his friends at the top. He could see their faces- vividly and in the same way how they looked like when they died. When he looked in their eyes he could see fear, accusation and disbelieve. Their eyes were always on him, but looking right through him at the same time as he could just stand and watch. He felt as if a something was crushing him and he didn’t have the strength to fight it.  
At the top of that mountain laid a woman. A girl, as he always called her, or Tess as others did. She was four years his junior. Bright and always smiling. She was his sergeant that scolded him and stole extra rations to give him. His sergeant that wasn’t afraid of his temper when stress was making him a complete dick to others. She had always teased him that he was too thin and his fiancée wouldn't want him back. There were times at night when he couldn’t sleep, when Harry found himself wondering: if the situation was different- if there was no war, if he had never met Lib… would it be possible for him and Tess to be together? Those thoughts never lasted long. He loved Libby, she was his brightest star and he could never had left her, not in this life, but it didn’t stop the what ifs. And sometimes Harrison smiled at the thought that in all possibility there could be a parallel world, where he and Tess were together and happy as he could be with Libby.  
Tess took a bullet for him. Knocked him over and took the bullet, without a second thought. It was raining that day and he was covered in mud as he held her in his arms, her bloodied hands twisting his uniform. She choke on her own blood telling him that he needed to go back to his girl.  
They were pushed back, Harry had to leave her body lying on the battlefield.  
And there were times in his nightmares when he died that day too.

*

He is shivering in his sleep now. His brows are furrowed and breathing irregular. His arms are clutching the sheets, all his muscles are tense. It’s not long now.  
The nights are always the worst and the war nightmares aren’t the only ones that hunt him.

*

When his rehabilitation had started another nightmare added itself to the list- that he could never walk the same again. It was irrational, he didn't lose the feeling in his legs, his spine wasn't broken. But the double compact fracture wasn't a good thing either.  
And so he saw himself in a wheelchair- broken. At that time Harrison Wells was afraid. He was snapping at everybody, wanted to drive Lib away. She didn't need to spend her live with an invalid. She didn't walk away. She was with him on every step- waking him up at night, calming him down and helping him to move his feet step by step.  
When he finally was able to move unaided, the nightmares became less frequent and with the burning of his uniform he put some of the demons to rest and finally was able to speak about some of them with Lib. 

*

The sheets are laying on the floor now. Harry’s head moves quicker from side to side and soft, distressed sounds leave his mouth. As his heart is hammering stronger and quicker against his ribcage, somewhere above the lightning strikes the ground.

*

He almost forgot how it felt to have nightmares when the car accident happened. If someone asked him about the days that followed his wife's death he would say nothing. Every time he closed his eyes his mind was replaying that night over and over again.  
The conversation, her scream, the scratching of tires, seeing her, pulling her out and holding her. He couldn't protect her and that had driven him insane. If that wasn’t enough, his mind began to mix his war experience with that dreadful night. There were times when he saw Lib's face instead of his sergeant’s. It was Lib who got shot, blown by a grenade or stabbed. All of it in front of his eyes. And he screamed. He screamed until his throat couldn’t take it anymore and then he just laid crumpled on the bedroom’s floor. He couldn't stand it and soon found out that the only way to not having those dreams was to get extremely drunk.  
At that time he didn't care who run their...his... lab. He couldn't care less. He vaguely remembered the woman who found him on the road as she came to his house a couple of times. To this day he doesn’t really know how she managed that. She fed him and tried to speak with him but he was almost in a catatonic state. Sometimes she just sat with him, not speaking or doing anything, just keeping her hand on his shoulder as he looked straight at the ceiling. He didn't know why she was doing this but when he thought about it later in his life, he was glad she did it. If it wasn't for her, he would probably die of starvation or dehydration. He just didn't care.  
And there were times when she was beside him when he was having one of those dreams. One of those that even the alcohol couldn't help. He was so, so lost but she shook him awake. She didn’t wait for him to speak with her, she just held him as he cried repeating his wife’s name over and over again.  
And then, one day, Jesse came barging into his room, throwing her little hands around his neck. It was just as he made up his mind and wanted to shoot himself. He just couldn't live like this anymore. But the loaded gun laid forgotten as he held his little girl close. His body heaving from sobs as she cried too. How could he even think about leaving her like that?  
She whispered in his ear, with that high voice of hers, that it would all be ok and that she didn't give him her permission to be sad. He cried even harder and squeezing her as if his live was depending on it. And it did, because at that moment Harrison Wells discovered his new lifeline.  
But the night after that he dreamed again.  
In his mind eye he didn't see the boy that held the detonator. It was Lib and he had his gun trained on her. He was crying as he pulled the trigger and as her lifeless body hit the ground. He heard his name being called and someone was shaking him. He woke up with a gasp, lifting himself from the floor.  
“I never got your name” He finally asked not looking at the woman sitting beside him. He swiped his face with his hand and she pretended that she didn’t notice the dampness under his eyes.  
“Christina McGee” She handed him a glass of water and he gulped it all at once. When he shifted she noticed the gun lying on the floor and her eyes winded. Harry spotted that and moved to gather the pistol in his palm. He weighed it and then, in one swift motion, he unloaded it and the bullet fell on the floor by his feet.  
“What changed your mind?” He heard her voice as he removed the rest of the bullets and put the gun in his drawer.  
“I have a daughter.” He turned around and saw her nodding.  
“Why are you doing this?” He suddenly asked approaching her with swift moves. “Why are you helping me? Why coming here?”  
She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden movements. She stood up and as it turned out she wasn’t so much smaller than himself.  
“I recognized you, that day- on the road” Something flashed in his eyes.  
“Liked what you saw? The great Harrison Wells finally getting what was due for his arrogance?” He started pacing. Knocking empty bottles with his feet.  
“I saw a man who just lost his wife. Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve it”  
“ I don’t need your pity”  
“I’m not pitting you dr. Wells, but even if you don’t realize that, you needed someone to keep an eye on yourself. I didn’t know your wife, but I don’t believe she would like to see you like that.”  
He looked at her then and suddenly felt ashamed. This woman saw him at his lowest and she was almost a stranger. Weirdly she didn’t feel like it. She cleared her throat and he looked up at her.  
“Do you need a hand to clean up this mess?”  
It took them a week to sort everything out so Jesse could return. The nightmares weren’t as frequent as before again. As he stood before a fresh marble grave, he made a promise to Libby, that he would protect Jesse and he intended to honor that promise. Dressed in a suit and clean shaven, he took his daughter back home. Two days later Tina McGee received a letter with a new job offer as the researcher at STAR Labs. Harry Wells didn’t have time for nightmares.

*  
With a scream dying in his throat, Harrison Wells snaps his eyes open.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Harry it's ok, you're in S.T.A.R. Labs, you're safe" 
> 
> He hears over and over and closes his eyes. Snow. That's her voice. She is trying to calm him down.

Harry Wells remembers every bit of his past as he lies panting and drenched with sweat in his small bed. His eyes are wide open, the images from his nightmare still vivid in his mind. He could see them in the dark, dancing on the ceiling. Cloven hand sticking out of his little girl's chest. His dark t-shirt clings to him, binding him in its grasp. He lifts his shaking hand and wipes it across his face as he tries to slow down his hammering heart taking deep breaths. He closes his eyes for a second resting his palm against them. He soon finds out, that it was a mistake.

He hears screams again.  
Terrified screams and cries for help.  
The sound of guns.  
Tires scratching on the road.

His eyes flew open again and he sits up abruptly. He needs air or else he fears that he would suffocate. Harry stumbles out of the bed but his blood runs cold when he spots the empty bed next to his.

_Don't let him take me, please..._  
_I won't..._  
_I told you, I will kill you in front of your father..._

He screws his eyes shut and feels himself shaking. His hand goes to his forehead. Get a grip on yourself, get a grip! 

_I can torture her, bring her right up to the edge of death!_

His breath is even quicker than before and his heart feels as if it wanted to escape from his chest. He retreats step by step, until he knocks into one of the shelfs. Something falls down onto the floor. Harry doesn’t notice - his hand stills on the doorframe. Air - he needs air, he needs to leave before he snaps. He almost falls down as he trips on his own bare feet.  
Harry takes one turn, then second and finally he reaches the elevator. He could almost swear that he saw a blue lightning following his every step. He pushes the right floor number, then rests his head on the cool surface of the mirror and lets a small shaky breath leave his lips. He is desperately trying to silence the voices that were filling his head. But as he rises his head and looks ahead, he recoils abruptly and his back hit the elevator’s door. For a moment he didn’t see his own reflection. Instead He saw a 14 years old boy with dead eyes and bullet hole in his forehead looking back at him.  
The doors open and he almost falls through them, stumbling onto the corridor. As he half-walks, half-runs, his mind is showing him images that in all probability couldn't be there. He is on Earth-1, in S.T.A.R. Labs, so why does he feel as if he was walking through mud? Why can he smell blood? Why does his hands feel sticky? And why he can feel hair on his neck standing up as if someone was watching him? He feels as if he was going mad. 

_DADDY!_  
_Dr Wells I am sorry to inform you but your wife is dead..._  
_NO!_  
_Go back to her Harrison…_  
_Please promise me you will come back..._

He hears child's cries in his head and, God help him, it feels so unbelievably real. He could almost swear that he's holding a cold metal of a gun in his hand. He can feel it's weight and smoothness. 

Harry stumbles into one of the bathrooms and with shaking hands turns the tap on. The water is flowing down and he focuses on that. Deep breaths. That's it. In and out. He splashes the cold liquid on his face and then grabs the sides of the sink. His knuckles are going white and he feels himself shaking as water drops from his nose and chin.

_Dad, Dad... Don't let him take me!_  
_Don't be sad daddy..._

Something escapes his throat. Could be a sob, could be something different. He tenses even more and he feels his left shoulder scream in pain. Pain is good. It helps him focus.  
But then, there is a light touch on his right shoulder and he jumps startled. His hand swinging before he could think. There is a yelp and he turns around abruptly, his eyes wide and breathing irregular. There's someone there. Someone is standing behind him with hands up but he can't see that person. The blood is pounding in his ears and he doesn't know what is happening. The stranger takes a step towards him and he takes a step back bumping into the sink. That distracts him for a moment and then there are hands on his face and a voice. He knows that voice. He needs to focus on it.

"Harry it's ok, you're in S.T.A.R. Labs, you're safe" 

He hears over and over and closes his eyes. Snow. That's her voice. She is trying to calm him down.

"Jesse..." He croaks out. Almost a whisper as he opens his eyes again and looks at the young scientist.  
What he sees is immediate understanding.

"She's with Iris, remember? They went shopping and she stayed with the Wests because she has fallen asleep on their coach. Joe called you, remember? She's fine and safe. Joe won't let anything happen to her. It's ok." 

He nods slowly calming himself down. Yes, yes he remembers now. West called him earlier, told him he would drop Jesse off later as she was exhausted.

"The breaches are closed Harry, Zoom can't hurt her. You're both safe."

He takes a deep breath then another and nods again. She was standing beside him now- one hand on his shoulder the other on his cheek creasing it slowly with her thumb. He looks at her and there is a ghost of a smile on her face even if her eyes look concerned.

"Hey." She says and smiles fully as if he has just woken up from sleep. "You think you can walk with me to the med bay or do you want to sit down here for a moment?" 

Harry thinks for a second. His knees feel weak but he's afraid that if he sits now, he won't be able to get up. He nods at her.

"Lead the way."

Caitlin smiles and reaches behind him to turn the tap off and then she puts her right hand on the small of his back. She steers him out of the bathroom leaving the door open. They walk side by side in silence, Caitlin's hand never leaves the spot between his shoulder blades. He leans into that touch just slightly and if Snow notices, she doesn't say anything. Maybe it was his imagination yet again, but Harry feels that touch even more as if Snow pressed her hand firmer.  
They take a turn and soon find themselves in the cortex. A rumble could be heard outside and Harry can't help but jump a little when the lighting strikes. Caitlin's hand moves to grip his biceps.

"It's ok, we're almost there"

She leads him as if he was a child, a very small and scared child. Surprisingly it doesn't matter for Harry. Maybe if it was someone different, he would feel embarrassed but right now, he doesn't know why, but he's glad that it is Snow guiding him.  
They enter the Med Bay and Catlin leads him near the bed. His legs feel weak as he sits on in without a word. He doesn't notice that he's still shivering. His eyes are focused on the floor. He doesn't know how long he's sitting like that but then he feels Caitlin's hand griping his right shoulder. He looks up and sees her mouth moving.

"I...could you repeat that?" He rasps and she smiles kindly.

"I said that I need you to remove your shirt so I could check your shoulder"

"My...shoulder?" 

He blinks. God, he hates it, he hates when his mind is so slow. It was always like that after nights like this. Snow nods as if he wasn't just acting not like himself at all.

"Yes, I need to check if your stiches are holding." 

Stiches? He remembers. The enormous pain as electricity was surging through his body, as sharp claws pierced holes in his flesh.

_I can torture her..._

He grips the side of the bed in almost painful grasp, bows his head and screws his eyes shut yet again. Caitlin's hands are on his face, lifting it so their eyes lock.

"He's not here Harry. It's over." 

They are gazing at each other. Caitlin's calm gaze is like an anchor for him. His breathing becomes even and slowly he stops shivering. Snow smiles and lets go of his face.

"Ok there?"

"Yes...ugh...thank you," he clears his throat and reaches for a hem of his t-shirt to lift it up. 

Meanwhile, Snow puts on her latex gloves and waits. He's almost done when he feels a stab of pain and hisses.

"Let me," Caitlin takes a hold of his shirt and helps him to pull it over his head. 

She grimaces as she sees it. There is blood on the bandage and she shakes her head as she removes the straps.

"You tore the stiches. Does it hurt?" 

He wonders for a moment. It did, he thinks, but does it still?

"I'm not sure..." 

She swipes at the wound with an antiseptic. Then jabs him with a needle giving him a local anesthetic. He looks at her closely. For the first time since he has woken up his mind isn't clouded and it's almost refreshing as he feels the gears in his head turning. Snow looks tired. No, not only that - there is something in her movements. Harry can't point what it is. She starts stitching him yet again and the light from the lamp lightens her face. Harry frowns. There are bugs under her eyes. He hasn't noticed them before when he was too lost in his own head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice snaps him out of his musing.

"Talk about what?" He didn't mean it to came as gruff as it did. She doesn't look fazed though.

"Maybe about why I found you in the bathroom in the middle of the night looking as if something chase you there?"

She didn't look up at him as she said it. She puts the last stich in place and then reaches for the fresh gauze to cover the wound. She looks exhausted. Harry wonders if he looks better or worse. 

"It's...complicated," he says finally turning his gaze at the wall.

"Isn't it always?"

She straps the gauze in place and her touch lingers on his bare skin. He looks at her closely.

"What are you doing here, Snow?" 

She stills and closes her eyes. Harry watches her closely and sees as her lower lip tremble a little. When she opens her eyes she looks straight at his newly bandaged shoulder. 

"I...guess I needed some fresh air..." she risks a glance in his direction. It's brief and she smiles, but this time it doesn't rich her eyes. It feels wrong and Harry resists the urge to touch her to reassure her just as she did earlier. Her hands grip his fresh gauze.

"I'm -"

"- fine." Her head snaps towards him as he finishes her sentence. She makes a motion to move away but Harry grips her hands pressing them to his shoulder. "We're both fine, aren't we?"

He smiles without humor. Her eyes winds slightly as if she came to realization how close her answer was to his previous one. He shakes his head and scoops aside on the cot. He still holds her hands as he guides her to his right side. She doesn't ask, just sits beside him, her hand still in his.

"It's funny, my wife always wanted me to talk...said it will help..." He speaks after a moment.

"Why do I think you didn't listen?" There is a sign of humor in her voice - slight but still. He smirks.

"She was persistent." He gazes ahead for a while, lost in thoughts. He feels her hand moving and now it's she who grips him - their fingers tangled together.

"Does it ever stop?" He turns his head and sees tears in her eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take..." the tears don't fall but her eyes are bright. Suddenly she looks so vulnerable and small. She's so young but yet already lost so much. Harry comes to a conclusion, that the Multiverse is a funny place, if it lets you to sit next to a face which killed your husband - twice. Did she spoke to anybody about any of it? About Ronnie and...Jay? It strikes him, that in this matter she's probably not so different from him. There are always so many more things to do and others have their own problems, they don't need one more worry. So it slowly eats you from the inside. He lets out a slow breath and looks ahead. 

"It doesn't," he can feel her eyes on him as he speaks. "It will always be there, that feeling that...that something is missing." He's not good with words, he never was, but somehow he finds himself talking. Maybe it's the semi-darkness of the Med Bay or maybe something else. Lib always spoke about her feelings to open him up and if it helps Snow, then Harry is willing to do it.

"In time you will learn to ignore it, you will almost forget that it's there... But it comes back, always. You just have to accept it." He thinks about Lib, about Tess and all the soldiers that died under his command. Yes, Harry accepted long ago, that he will live with those ghosts for the rest of his life.

"Sometimes you will feel as if you couldn't make it, that it suffocates you, but there will be times when that feeling helps. Remembering helps, but you can't keep beating yourself over this." He's the one to talk – the big guilt train and all, but Snow doesn't deserve it, any of it. He on the other hand...

"I keep thinking that it somewhat my fault..." He snaps his head towards her. "Maybe I'm deemed to that fate... First Ronnie and now J-Jay... I keep failing everybody around…" She sniffs just so slightly. "It just hurts so much..."

Harry bites his lower lip then opens his mouth slightly. His eyes softens as he looks at the woman beside him. She looks so small all of sudden. He moves just so slightly, so he could face her more.

"Snow...look at me. None of this was your fault. You didn't kill Ronnie and you didn't kill Jay. You didn't deserve any of it, you are a good person." Their eyes lock and Harry for once drops his shields. He wants her to see all of it. He wants her to see that he understands.

"You will get over it. And you know how I know it? Because you're strong. You're stronger than anybody I know, you're stronger than myself." He takes both her hands in his and squeezes them. He drops his gaze for a moment and takes a deep breath. "When my wife died...I broke. If it wasn't for Jesse..." He shakes his head. "Well, let's just say, that you and I would have eternally different conversation if any..." He says is quickly and moves slightly. They shoulders are touching each other now. "You survived this three times and you need to know this Caitlin: you are not alone in any this. You were never alone and you never will be. You got Barry, Iris and Cisco..."

"And you." She says as she scoots closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder, wrapping her hands around his arm. His eyes winds just slightly. he turns his head and looks at her. His eyes soften.

"Yes." He rasps. "You got me too."

They sit like that for God knows how long. At some point Harry thinks he should feel cold, considering he still sat shirtless, but oddly enough, he doesn't feel like it at all. If someone told him before, that he would be sitting like this with Caitlin by his side, he would probably laugh at them. Yet here he was. He shakes his head and crocks it a little risking a glance at Snow's face. Her breathing is even and she seems to have fallen asleep. One corner of Harry's lips lifts in half-smile. He shifts a little and to his surprise he feels Snow's hand tightening around his arm.

"You didn't deserve any of this either." He hears her muffed voice. She lets go of him and they both shift so now they are facing each other. Harry shakes his head and huffs.

"I'm not a good person Snow."

"I wouldn't be sitting here with a bad man-"

"- I killed people," he interrupts her averting his gaze. He sees her cocking her head.

"Is this what you keep dreaming about?" It wasn't the kind of thing he expected her to say and suddenly feels a lump in his throat. He nods.

"Among other things."

"And here I am mopping about my dead boyfriends." Harry's head snaps towards her. He knows, that she's trying to lighten the mood but he feels something strange inside -a surge of protectiveness mixed with anger. Harry's face darkens and he sees that Snow noticed.

"Don't say that. Don't EVER say that." And in that moment he does something that he never thought he would - he scoots close to her and coups her face in both his hands. "Your problems matter Caitlin, don't you dare passing it off."

He looks in her eyes and sees tears in them. Harry sighs and do another crazy thing - he wraps Snow in a tight embrace. She stills for just a moment and then her arms come to rest on his back. She buries her head in his chest and he rests his head atop of her hair.

"You matter Snow, never ever let yourself to think otherwise."

He feels her shaking in his arms and he tightens them just so slightly. One solitary tear falls from his eye when he feels wetness on his chest.

"Thank you, Harry." She doesn't let go of him as she says it, her voice a little muffled by his chest. He can feel her breath on his bare skin. She breathes calmer now. Harry smiles and rests his cheek against her head.

"No Snow, it is I who needs to thank you."

They stay like that. Comfortable in each other’s arms - The shadows from the night terrors banished.  
Outside the storm has passed and now just small drops of rain fall from the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome :)


End file.
